Auld Lang Syne
by MadeOfSquirrels
Summary: Tony Stark celebrates New Year with his best friends. Because in my head, Loki lives with them.
1. Chapter 1

If Tony Stark had been pressed, several years ago, to venture a guess on how he would be spending New Year, 2012/2013, he would probably have gone with some flash party in a manor, or a villa, or something like that. Diamond cufflinks and piña coladas all the way. Instead, here he was, curled up on a sofa, a pint of slightly warm beer in one hand, and he was hard-pressed to find a time he had ever been this happy.

Maybe it was the company, he mused, looking about the room. Thor was stood in one corner, one arm firmly clamped around Jane Foster, the other even more firmly clamped around Loki. The three were roaring the lyrics to 'We Are Family' – at least, Thor was. Loki had gone a _little_ cross-eyed, and was struggling to keep a grasp on his brother, his pint of lager, and sobriety all at once, and every so often his mouth would go out of sync. For her part, Jane was leaning against Thor. As she caught Tony's gaze, she waved.

Pepper, Natasha and Darcy were huddled in the corner, talking about dresses – they were women, he assumed it was their default conversation topic – and sipping on whatever Jarvis had been able to concoct out of the liquor cupboard. As he watched, Dr Banner walked over, carrying some more glasses, and handed them out, Darcy first. They shared a smile, and he saw Natasha and Pepper share an amused glance behind their back. Ooh, he would have to note this down, possible developments in the angry-green-man-and-Darcy relationship area.

Cap and Hawkeye, however, were either about to have a fight, or destroy something. Steve wasn't drunk, of course – he couldn't, with his super-metabolism or whatever – but Clint most certainly could, and definitely was. Judging by the mutual, kind of wonky glaring and the sheer number of glasses between them, there was a drinking contest going on that hadn't reached its head yet – good old-fashioned human bullheadedness vs. super-soldier-drinking-ability. As he watched, Clint drained a pint in one go, hiccupped, and then glared at Steve, ever so slightly slanted in his posture. Maybe it was time for some good old intervention.

"Hey, Clint?" he said, sliding into the seat next to him, and Clint looked at him, before his lip began to quiver, and he burst into laughter.

"You're _funny_," the man giggled, and leant against Tony's shoulder. "Di' I win?"

"Steve, play nice with the kids, okay?" Tony grinned, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Hey, not my fault he can't handle his drink," he smiled, and reached over the table, patting Clint on the arm, who let out a little snore. "Aww, isn't he cute when he's asleep?"

"You know, a few months ago," Loki announced loudly, falling into the chair next to Tony, "I would happily have ki-" he paused, to giggle into the back of his hand, "killed you _all_. Yeah. Even… even _you_, Mr Blondie-Hair-Fancy-Spangly-Pants," he said, pointing at Steve and missing. "Bu-but-but…" He paused, and hiccupped this time. "But you've all been such… such friendly… friends." He stopped, and looked into his glass. "Pathetic mortal beer. It hasn't even affect- infect… reflected me." He hiccupped again. "Is there more?"

"Loki, we love you too," Steve grinned, and Loki nodded.

"You… are my family," he said, and then pointed at Stark. "An' no funny quips from you, Mr… Magnetic… metal… Tony. No joking. No. You are _all_ my family, even the ones who aren't. Specially those. _Is_ there more beer?"

"We think you've had enough," Tony said firmly, and Loki shook his head.

"No, no, you see… whatever." Loki waved his fingers, and a can of beer on the table popped open, the liquid flowing out and _mostly_ making it into the glass. Loki looked at the beer on the AC/DC shirt Tony had lent him, and his brow furrowed. "S'not my glass. S'my shirt."

"If he's sick, Thor cleans it up," Bruce announced, appearing and sitting next to Steve. "I think I may, against all the odds, have pulled," he said, more quietly, and nodded at Darcy. "She's cute, isn't she?"

"She's a wovely loman. Lovely woman," Loki slurred. "Get… get in there," he added, after a moment's reflection on the human phrase. "You… tap… that… er…"

"The phrase is 'tap that ass', and where did you _learn_ that?" Tony asked, and Loki shrugged, eyes glazing over a little.

"My tongue… feels like carpet," he announced to the room at large, and Clint woke up from his nap to agree, with both the tongue-carpet fact and the fact that Darcy was indeed a lovely girl, if not a little insane.

Tony, Steve and Bruce all eventually elected to leave Clint and Loki at the table, arguing over who was stronger and about to arm-wrestle, when Thor called everyone over excitedly.

"The countdown is about to start!" he announced loudly.

"Everyone ready for a good round of Auld Lang Syne?" Cap grinned, and the group formed a circle, arms around each other.

"Ten!" Thor shouted.

"Nine!" Jane squeaked, excitement clearly a little much.

"Eight!" Loki slurred, leaning his head against Hawkeye.

"Seven?" Clint hazarded.

"Six," Cap grinned.

"Five," Pepper offered.

"_Shii,_" Tony said in Japanese, to show off.

"Three," Darcy said, sticking her tongue out at Tony.

"Two," Bruce grinned.

"One!" Natasha shouted, a beam of joy spreading across her face.

"_Happy New Year_!" the group shouted, and the noise for the next few seconds was indescribable. There was the traditional midnight kiss – Tony and Pepper, Bruce and Darcy, Clint, rather sloppily, and Natasha, Thor and Jane, and Cap received a big sloppy kiss from Loki on the cheek.

"_Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and auld lang syne_!"

It was definitely the company, Tony decided.


	2. Chapter 2: The Morning After

_AN: Blame Darkducki for this. She wanted a morning after, I normally have terrible mornings after. By extension, so does Loki._

* * *

Loki did not understand what was happening to him.

Everything was agony, every movement, every breath. His hands ached as he crawled to the light, his legs ached, but most of all his head; it burnt as wildfire, and he was unsure if he would survive. The feeling of mortality scared him, and he whimpered as he crawled, fingers clawing at the portal to salvation.

Then the nausea.

He felt it bubble in his stomach, and then he doubled over and was sick, violently sick. He felt dizzy, and leant away in case he were to fall in his own vomit.

"There is a toilet. _Right there_."

Tony looked scandalised, and Loki opened one eye, groaning weakly.

"I'm not surprised you're hung over," Tony continued. "If you were human, you'd definitely be in the hospital. You're cleaning that up," he added, and Loki mewled pathetically in protest. "No! No."

"I _want to die_," Loki announced dramatically, voice cracked and broken. It was hardly surprising; he had been hauled off the roof at four a.m. singing some bawdy drinking song in broken Old Norse – if Tony remembered (because Loki sure wasn't going to) it had been something about rowing to Vahalla in Freyr's codpiece. Thor had been ready to climb up and join him, except that doors were suddenly too difficult for him to open.

"_That toilet better be free_," a voice announced, and Clint stumbled in, face grey. "Last night's about to repeat on me." He staggered past, and Tony winced as he stepped in Loki's vomit without even noticing.

"What a bunch of sissies- urgh," Steve said, nose wrinkling as he followed Clint out onto the landing. The sound of vomiting came from inside the toilet. "Oh, Loki."

"_What is wrong with you mortals_," Loki whispered in horror, as if they had personally made him drink – what had he drunk? He couldn't remember. He remembered the ale, which he had been comfortable with, and then something called 'vodka' that he had had mixed with that horrible fizzy brown drink. It had tasted slightly like the smell of perfume, but he had drunk it anyway. After that… he didn't remember much. There were snippets – he had insisted he be allowed some of that 'absinthe' stuff. He remembered singing '_Auld Lang Syne_' with everyone. Arm-wrestling Clint. Dancing insanely to something that probably wasn't music. Flirting with someone. That last one made him wince.

"Did I kiss Natasha?" Clint asked weakly from inside the toilet.

"Yes. Lots. She kept slapping you away, but you were whispering stuff in French," Tony said, and Clint swore. "Romantic stuff, I think, but the thing I heard was that you called her something… naughty."

"I meant to say 'duck'," Clint mumbled, and Loki's forehead rumpled.

"Who did I flirt with?" he croaked, and Tony grinned. So did Steve. "Oh _no_…"

Tony vanished for a moment, and could be heard talking to Pepper. Then he reappeared, holding a phone.

"Come here," he said, and Loki stood up with all the finesse of a new-born giraffe. "Come on, Loki, God of Mischief, let's see what your godliness got up to last night."

The video was small and grainy, but Loki could clearly make himself out. Probably because he was about an inch away from the camera.

"An'… an'… an'…" he was giggling, tears streaming down his face. "An' is all m'best friends…"

Loki blushed a bright red, and grasped the phone as Tony's hand began to shake from the laughter.

"This's _my main man_!" someone whooped, and the camera panned over to show Hawkeye and Loki were trying to hold each other up. "_This_ guy 's… 's…" Hawkeye stuck his tongue out, and Loki giggled, booping him on the nose. "This guy is sexy!"

There was a thud, and the bathroom door bounced off of the wall as Clint burst out of the bathroom and made a grab for the phone. Loki held out a hand, and Clint was pinned back against the wall.

"You're sexy," Loki giggled, voice distorted a little by the hand over the speaker, and Tony began to laugh even harder at his real-life mortified expression. "C'mere!"

Loki closed his eyes and handed the phone back to Tony as his drunken self grasped Hawkeye by the head and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Hey, don't worry, people do all sorts of stupid stuff when they're drunk," Tony said, as seriously as he could. This wasn't very seriously at all. "You two are clearly just _very good friends_." The sentence ended in hysterical laughter.

"Thor's going to kill him," Loki said, a little stunned and ill after what he had seen. There was a yelp from behind him, and he clicked his fingers, allowing Clint to fall to the floor.

"Hey! I'm not letting some Nordic lunatic kill me! I saw what he did in New Mexico!"

"I will never drink again," Loki said solemnly, and then crushed Tony's phone.


End file.
